


Naughty Thoughts

by Hot_elf



Series: Dragon Age - series 10 (all the AUs: Megan/Nate/Carver) [6]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dirty Talk, F/M, Modern Thedas, Sexual Fantasy, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-17 01:46:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5849173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hot_elf/pseuds/Hot_elf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Megan Cousland is enjoying life as a student at Montsimmard University. She gets on well with her fellow students, and her hot professor provides ample material for her fantasy life. When she finally gets a chance to tell him about her naughty thoughts, it turns out that she's not the only one who has been fantasizing about having a fling...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Shit. I almost forgot!" Megan jumped to her feet, frantically digging through her closet for something decent to wear. "I promised my dad I'd attend Mr Guerrin's lecture today."

"Whose?" Léonie, her roommate, raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

It was getting dark already, and normally, they'd have settled into their usual peaceful evening routine now, each of them with a book or a laptop, doing homework for their college classes, or just relaxing after a long day.

"Teagan Guerrin. He's an old friend of my father's, a history prof from Redcliffe." Megan squeezed herself into a tight pink sweater and grabbed a skirt from the closet floor, critically inspecting it for stains and wrinkles. "He's here in Montsimmard to talk about Fereldan-Orlesian relations tonight. You know, as part of that cultural exchange programme where they invite Fereldan lecturers to come over here."

"But your major is modern languages." Léonie sounded irritated. "Why would you attend a history lecture?"

"I told you, my father wants me to go. Said it would _only be polite_." Megan grimaced as she reached for her shoes. "I'm probably going to be bored stiff."

"Well… Have fun, then." With a yawn, Léonie reached for her book, not even bothering to look up when Megan left the room.

Fortunately, the lecture turned out to be quite interesting after all. Most of Montsimmard University's professors were there, too, and quite a few history students Megan knew from sight. Teagan Guerrin was a decent speaker, and he spiced up the dry subject with lots of amusing little anecdotes and lesser-known facts. He was looking good for his age, too, Megan mused, his reddish hair still thick and luscious, his beard short and well-kept.

After the lecture, she hung around for a moment, to make sure she'd done her filial duty. She hadn't expected more than a brief greeting from the professor, but when she approached him, he turned to her with a wide smile.

"Miss Cousland! Your father said you were a student here, but I didn't think you'd show up for my lecture." He sounded genuinely happy to see her. "I must say, I'm flattered."

"Mr Guerrin." Against her wish, she felt a flush rise to her cheeks. "That was an awesome lecture. So original and informative. And please… you can keep calling me Megan. You've known me since I was a kid."

"But you're not a child anymore." His eyes travelled up and down her body so quickly she wasn't sure she hadn't just imagined it. He chuckled at her evident discomfort. "All right, Megan. But if I call you by your first name, it's only right if you do the same. Call me Teagan."

"I… That isn't what I-" Megan felt her flush deepen. _Shit_. This was weird. Her parents had never subscribed to the modern notion that children should call grown-ups by their first names, and it felt decidedly odd to address Mr Guerrin - _Teagan_ , she reminded herself - just like she would one of her buddies. Then again, she would probably only make things worse if she kept talking about it. "Okay. Teagan."

He smiled at that, and took her hand. "Is there anything I can do for you while I'm here, Megan? Oh, I know." He looked around searchingly. "Duncan said he was going to take me out to dinner at a fancy restaurant near my hotel. Would you like to come along?"

"What? No, I don't think I can do that." Megan just about stopped herself from making a face. Though, if she was honest, his offer was more than a little enticing. There were only so much noodles and take-away meals a person could eat, and her own attempts at cooking hadn't been all that satisfactory so far. "Really, I-"

"Come on." As if he'd read her thoughts, Teagan winked at her conspiratorially. "I'm sure you could do with a decent meal once in a while. And besides…" He lowered his voice even further. "I'd be glad to have some more company. Duncan and I don't really get along all that well."

_Duncan_. That had to be Professor Arryn he was referring to. Megan had taken one of his classes last term, and she'd enjoyed it, quite a bit. And yes, here he was, coming toward them, easily recognizable by his thick black beard and his strong shoulders.

Teagan was still looking at her. "Please?"

Megan hesitated. If she was quite honest, she was a little uncomfortable with Teagan Guerrin's sudden interest in her. Sure, he was nice and all that, but she really wasn't into older men and-

"Ah, Teagan. Ready for dinner?" Professor Arryn's deep, warm voice cut through her thoughts, and she felt a pleasant shiver run down her spine.

_Okay. Scratch that last bit._ Apparently, she was _quite_ interested in older men, if they came with a voice and a body like his.

"Duncan." Teagan nodded at him, and yes, there was a definite strain in his tone. "You don't mind if Miss Cousland joins us for dinner, do you?"

"Not at all." His dark eyes were regarding her with intense focus. "Megan, isn't it? I remember you from my basic linguistics class last term."

Megan felt her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "You do?" At the time, she hadn't noticed him taking any particular interest in her. Though, to be fair, she might have been too busy ogling his bare forearms.

"Why wouldn't I?" There were fine laugh-lines around his eyes now. "You did a good job on that paper. And I don't think you missed a single class."

She wasn't sure what to reply, but fortunately he didn't expect an answer.

"Of course you can join us." He gestured toward the door. "Come on. My car's outside."

They spoke little on the drive to the restaurant. Megan had chosen to sit in the back, and the two men were quiet, except for a few polite phrases. Teagan opened the door for her when they arrived, with a little old-fashioned bow and again, Megan wasn't sure what to think about it. Was he _flirting_ with her? Or just being his normal kind self? It was hard to tell.

It turned out she needn't have worried about him. When they arrived at the restaurant, a large group of professors and teaching assistants was already waiting for them at a table at the back of the room. As the honoured guest from Ferelden, Teagan immediately became the centre of attention.

Megan felt a bit lost at first, so she focussed on watching everyone and listening to their conversations. It was a bit boring, to tell the truth, but the food was wonderful, and she tucked in with a good appetite.

Next to her, Duncan Arryn chuckled softly. "It's nice to see someone actually appreciate the food here."

She glanced over to gauge whether he was making fun of her, but he seemed serious. And he had a point. Everyone else seemed far too busy sounding cultivated and impressive to enjoy the spicy little meat balls. "It's delicious."

"You like Rivaini cuisine, then?" He was smiling now, and the smile transformed his face, making him look a lot more accessible. "My mother was from Rivain. It's nice to get a taste of home now and again."

Megan nodded. So he was half-Rivaini. Yes, that would explain his dark good looks. And maybe account for the fact that he wasn't quite as stuffy as Orlesian professors in general.

"I love Rivaini food." She smiled tentatively back. "I got hooked on the taste when I was in Dairsmuid some time ago."

"You've been to Rivain?" He looked genuinely interested.

"Yes. During my gap year. I was working on a cruise ship, as part of the entertainment staff." Megan had fond memories of that particular trip.

"Wow. That's hard work." He looked sober. "You must be tougher than you look."

"Not all that tough. I was with good friends and we helped each other out." She felt a small pang of nostalgia at the thought of their little gang. Alistair, Morrigan, Sten, Daveth… and Zevran, of course. She missed them all, but Zev in particular.

Their little exchange had effectively broken the ice, and they happily chatted away for the rest of the meal. Teagan was busy soaking up the attention of a stunning young TA from Val Royeaux, who was shamelessly making eyes at him, so Megan didn't feel bad about neglecting him. The red wine flowed freely, and soon enough Duncan and she were on a first-name basis, too. He was funny and charming, once he dropped his formal mask, and Megan was enjoying herself, more than she had anticipated.

When it was finally time to go, Teagan threw her a guilty glance. "Megan. I hope you had a good time. Can I call you a taxi?"

"No need." Duncan made a dismissive gesture. He had very expressive hands, Megan had observed during the evening, and he tended to use them a lot to underscore his words. "I can take her back to the campus. It's on my way home."

Megan accepted his offer gratefully. It was almost midnight, and she didn't fancy taking the bus at this hour. It took a while for everyone to say their goodbyes, but eventually they were on their way back home. It was dark outside, and the car smelled good, of leather and of Duncan's aftershave. Megan leaned back into her comfy seat with a happy sigh.

"So tell me…" Duncan's face was hardly visible in the dark. "Did you really enjoy my class last term?"

"Of course I did." Megan was confused. "Why do you ask?"

"You didn't pick any of my classes this time around." He sounded almost disappointed, but surely she was just imagining that. "Usually, when a student likes my teaching style, they come back for more."

"Oh! No, it's not that. I mean, I really liked your class. It's just-" She broke off with an embarrassed little laugh.

"What?" There was curiosity in his voice now, and something else she couldn't quite place. "What was the problem?"

"I…" _Oh, screw it!_ She'd had just enough wine to make her a little reckless. "Well, I figured it was better to go for a class where I wouldn't be so… distracted."

"Distracted?" He cleared his throat.

Oh! Things were getting decidedly dicey. Megan felt a hot rush of excitement. She sincerely hoped she hadn't misread the situation, but there was only one way of finding out.

"By you. Your voice, I mean." She was glad for the darkness as she hurriedly went on. "You see; it was kind of hard to focus in your classroom. Just listening to you was enough to get me all hot and bothered."

He inhaled sharply, and she could see his knuckles tighten on the wheel, but he was still going for an unaffected tone. "Hard to focus… What were you thinking about, then?"

Megan was beginning to enjoy herself. "Oh, just your ordinary, run-of-the-mill teacher-student fantasies." She shrugged innocently. "Nothing special."

A stifled gasp from his side of the car told her she was on the right track. "Nothing special, eh? Care to elaborate?"

"You really want to hear my naughty thoughts?" Megan made a small, humming noise, trying to figure out how to do this. "Well, there was this one fantasy…"

"Yes?" Maker, he sounded _eager_. "Go on."

With a smile, she shuffled deeper into her seat to get more comfortable, closing her eyes. "I'm in your office, to discuss my paper. It's just the two of us, late at night, nobody else around. And you tell me that I _really ought to make more of an effort_ to show you I deserve a better grade." She didn't bother making this sound any subtler than it was.

Predictably, Duncan snorted at her words, but at the same time, she was certain he'd tensed up further. "You make me sound like an actor in a cheap porn flick."

"Well, I told you it wasn't a particularly refined fantasy." Megan grinned, even though she knew he couldn't see it in the dark. "Still hot, though. Anyway, you're sitting in your chair, giving me this really strict glare, and I get down on my knees before you, and I…" Once again, she hesitated briefly. "Can you drive like this? Safely, I mean?"

"Don't worry, I'm old enough to keep it together. And I wouldn't want to miss this for the world." He did his best to sound calm and collected, but there was the faintest tremor in his voice, and it made her feel powerful and alluring. "What do you do?"

Involuntarily, Megan pressed her legs together for more friction. "I put my mouth on you. Through your pants at first, and then I pull them down, just a little, so I can taste you."

This time his gasp was almost a moan. "And then?" He took his eyes from the road for a second to flash a hot glance at her.

"You let me proceed for a while, but then you lift me up and make me sit down on the desk in front of you." Megan was wet now, so wet it was bordering on uncomfortable. "And you spread my legs, wide, and tear off my panties…" She paused a moment, for maximum effect. "And then you _lick_ me, slowly and patiently, and it's mind-blowingly good, so good that I can't stop myself from screaming as I come all over your face."

Duncan actually _groaned_. "Damn it, _Megan_!" He shivered all over. "Do you fantasize about all your teachers?"

"Just you. Well, and Dr Ward, I guess," she amended. "He's hot, too."

"Riordan?" Duncan made a curious little noise in the back of his throat. "Well, I'm sure he'd appreciate it, if he knew."

"You're not going to tell him, are you?" Megan swallowed, suddenly worried.

"Nah, it would only go to his head. And he's quite arrogant enough already." Duncan's grin was audible. "But really, you should write smut in your free time."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Plucking up her courage, she placed her hand on his right thigh, relishing his answering shudder. "What about you, then? Ever fantasize about a student? About me?"

"You have no idea." He sounded strangled, as if his throat was far too tight to speak. "Every single time I saw you there, in the first row, with your pretty legs crossed and that pouty mouth of yours, and the tousled hair… You were driving me crazy, all of the time. Maker, Megan…" Again, he inhaled sharply. "I've dreamt of bending you over my desk for _months_."

It was her turn to moan, and of course Duncan heard it. Before she realized what he was doing, he had already pulled the car over and stopped, turning around to face her. "What now?" His voice was rough as sandpaper. "We're almost there. Do you want to go back to your dorm? Or-"

His hand was in her hair and he was pulling her in for a kiss, and Megan almost forgot how to breathe. _How in Thedas did we get to this point so fast?_ His lips were on hers, hot and hungry, his tongue parting her lips, and he was kissing her, hard and deep, and she was kissing him back, and _oh Maker_ … Megan was pretty sure she wouldn't have objected if he'd wanted to have her right here, in his car, at the side of the road.

Pulling back, he cupped her face in one hand, still breathing hard. "Would you like to come with me? To my place?"

"Oh yes." It was a no-brainer. She wanted him so much right now, it almost _hurt_. "Please."

He made a rough noise, deep in his throat, and started up the engine again.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

They didn't speak any more on their way to Duncan's house, and as soon as the front door fell shut behind them, he was kissing her again, one hand on her breast, the other one firmly cupping her ass. Megan whined with pleasure, too far gone already to object to any of it.

They stumbled through the hall in a tight embrace, into a spacious living room with a large leather couch. Unceremoniously, Duncan shoved her onto the couch and dropped to his knees on the thick rug, spreading her legs and pushing her panties aside.

And then his mouth was on her and it was just as good as in her fantasy, if not better. Eagerly, she dug her fingers into his thick black hair, tugging hard, and he moaned, his large hands hot and heavy on her bare thighs. His beard was tickling her, just the teensiest bit, and his tongue… Maker, his tongue was doing awesome things to her, sliding through her folds, thrusting insistently inside her, lapping up her juices as if she was the most exotic delicacy ever. Before she knew it, she was coming, coming harder than she had in months, arching up into his mouth with a strangled cry. _So good!_

Duncan sat back on his haunches with a pleased laugh, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "You doing okay?"

"A lot better than okay." Kicking off her shoes, she let her left foot slowly trail up his leg to the pronounced bulge in his pants. He felt good, thick and hard, and she wanted more. She _needed_ more. "Are you going to fuck me now?"

He gasped involuntarily, and Megan smiled to herself. It had been one of Zevran's more useful lessons. _Most people don't get off on vulgarity,_ cara _, but if used sparingly, naughty words can be really effective._ Duncan's reaction was ample proof of the truth of this statement.

"Do you want me to?" His voice must have dropped another octave.

"Oh Maker, please, yes." Megan wiggled out of her clothes as fast as she could. She didn't miss his sharp intake of breath when she threw off her bra, baring her small, high breasts.

But he didn't pounce on her straight away. Instead, he got to his feet, taking her hand to pull her up into his arms.

"I want you in my bed," he explained when he saw her surprised expression. "Much more comfortable, and I intend to take my time with you."

"Do you, now?" she purred, rubbing herself shamelessly against his crotch. "Are you sure you can wait that long?"

He bit his lip, hard, and she felt him grow taut against her, but he shook his head, taking a deep breath. "Absolutely. Come on."

His bedroom was just as large and just as tastefully furnished as the living area, and Megan dropped onto the king-sized bed with a pleased squeak, rolling over with a happy smile and wiggling her still sock-clad feet at him. "What are you waiting for?"

"Stop that. You look all of fifteen, and that makes me feel like a dirty old man." His tone was dry as dust, but he was smiling as he shucked off his shirt and pants.

"Relax. I'm 21 and perfectly legal." Kneeling on the edge of the bed, she gestured for him to come closer. "You can check my I.D. if you want to. Besides…" She ran an appreciative hand over his well-muscled chest. "You don't look _old_ to me."

True, the curly hair growing there was greying already, but that was normal with someone as dark as he was, wasn't it? And his stomach was flat and hard, his thighs strong and his cock… His cock was thick and lovely, a bit darker at the base and rising proudly from a nest of pitch black curls. And he was magnificently hard. _Definitely no performance problems here_. Bending a little lower, Megan lapped at the head with her tongue and he moaned hungrily, staring down at her with a look of single-minded focus.

But before she could get really going, he pulled back and joined her on the bed, and this time, he went straight for her breasts. And Megan wondered why she hadn't thought to include this in her fantasy, because his mouth felt so wonderful on her, his lips brushing against her stiff nipples, his teeth gently nibbling, his tongue flicking against her flesh. She was still sopping wet, or maybe again, and she whimpered with delight when he pushed his thick fingers into her heat.

It felt good, it felt wonderful, and Megan wanted him never to stop, but at the same time she marvelled at his patience. Surely, he had to be going mad by now, with her naked body stretched out next to him, ready for the taking, and the scent of her arousal filling the air, so intense it was almost embarrassing.

"Duncan, please." Megan knew she sounded petulant, but she didn't care. "Stop teasing me."

"Why?" He thrust his fingers even deeper, curling them just so, and she whined again, clenching tight around him. "As far as I can tell, you like it."

Even when he _finally_ took pity on her, he refused to be rushed, pushing inside her with exquisite slowness. And it was the best feeling ever, to be full of him, so gloriously full, with his cock caressing her in all the right spots. Megan's head flew back with a long, pleased sigh, and he groaned in response, burying himself inside her to the hilt. He began to move, with slow undulating movements, and she had to do _something_ , or he would keep tormenting her forever.

Wrapping both legs around him, she drew him in even further, her heels digging deep into his back. "Oh, blight it, Duncan, come on! I won't break."

"Won't you?" There was a flash of amusement in his eyes, but he pulled back and slammed into her again, a lot harder than he had before, and yes, this was what she'd wanted from him.

"Please. More." They were her last articulate words.

Soon after, she lost the capacity to speak or think clearly. He just went on and on, with long, deep strokes, pausing only once to switch her over, so he could take her from behind, his hands tight on her hips to hold her just where he wanted her. In some dim recess of her mind, she was genuinely impressed with how long he kept going, steady and relentless, until he'd sent her over the edge for a second time.

And it was even better than her first orgasm, hot and sweet and perfect, flooding every cell in her body with ecstasy, making her cry out loud in pure unadulterated pleasure. When he collapsed on top of her shortly after, leaning heavily on her back for a moment before pulling back, they were both bathed in sweat and panting hard.

"Holy Maker… That was amazing. You're amazing." He dropped on his back next to her, pulling her close. "We should have done this months ago."

"That would have been _so_ unethical," she pointed out lazily, threading her fingers through the thick curls on his chest. "What with me being one of your students and all."

"I don't care." He flinched at his own words. "I mean, yes, I do. Or I would, normally. It's not as if I make a habit out of this."

"What, sleeping with your students? Don't tell me I'm the first." Megan grinned widely, but grew serious at the look on his face. "Really?"

"Really," he confirmed. "I do have my principles, you know, unlike _some_ people. But you… You're different." He actually _did_ sound as if he meant it. "Anyway, you'll have to promise me not to take any more of my classes."

"Such a pity." Megan sighed. "Yeah. Okay. But… Does that mean I'll see you again?"

"If you want." Duncan looked rather charmingly uncertain for a moment. "Do you?"

"Oh, I do." Megan huddled closer to him, feeling a pleasant tingle all through her body. "You bet I do."

* * *

"Damn it, Megan, where have you been? It's nearly three o'clock!" Léonie _did_ look worried, and she had actually stayed up to wait for her. "The last time you pulled a stunt like this was when that hot guy from Antiva showed up."

"Yeah, well." Megan smiled dreamily. "I met someone."

"I figured. Must have been pretty sensational, going by your stupid grin." Léonie shook her head. "Really, Megan just send me a text next time, okay? I was one step away from calling the cops."

"I'm sorry." Megan did her best to look chastened. "I wasn't thinking straight."

"Oh wow. That bad?" Her roommate looked at her pityingly. "Don't tell me you're in looooove!" She grimaced, making Megan laugh.

"Not in love, no. In lust, maybe." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "I haven't had such spectacular sex in months."

"Ugh. No details, please." Léonie shuddered in pretend disgust. "And please promise me you won't bring him here for smoochies."

"No worries." Megan grinned at the thought of trying to persuade Duncan to squeeze himself into her shared dorm room with her. Not a particularly tempting option, especially compared to his house. _Maker, that house!_ She had pretty much fallen in love with it at first sight. "He has his own place."

"Good." Léonie put on her best severe face. "Because I'm not sneaking out at night, just so you can have some fun."

Megan nodded, but she felt a brief pang at Léonie's words. The two of them got on well enough as a rule, but this was precisely why they would never be friends. Léonie was a decent roommate, neat and polite, but she wasn't like Sigrun, or even Morrigan. Megan missed having a friend like that here in Orlais.

"Say… If you have a boyfriend now, what happens the next time whatshisname shows up here?" Léonie interrupted her train of thoughts.

"Who, Zev?" Megan shrugged. "No idea. He's pretty relaxed about that sort of thing." And that was certainly true. Zev would probably congratulate her on getting laid, and then he'd want to hear all the details. Megan smiled nostalgically.

"I'm not sure I'd go with 'boyfriend' anyway, so far," was all she said aloud.

Léonie shrugged. "Whatever. None of my business."

And this was where Léonie's lack of interest in her love life actually came in handy, Megan mused. Sigrun would never have let it go at that. She'd have grilled Megan until she knew who her mystery lover was, and whether he would treat her best friend right. Whereas Léonie was already engrossed in her book again and seemed quite content to let the matter rest.

Ah, well. The fewer people knew about her involvement with Duncan the better. Megan felt her forehead scrunch up in a frown. She didn't really like having to hide her feelings. But in this particular case, it was probably for the best.

* * *

Megan hadn't bothered to set an alarm clock. She only had one class in the morning, an Orlesian grammar course, and she knew she could afford to miss it. And she really needed to get some sleep after the night she'd had.

Léonie had already left for her classes by the time Megan woke up, stretching lazily in her narrow bed. It was nice to have the place to herself for once. Not that the tiny dorm room was much to write home about, with its bare minimum of functional furniture, the floor covered in well-worn linoleum and the walls painted plain white. But the sun was shining brightly through the striped curtains, and her bed was warm and cosy.

Vaguely, she wondered what Duncan was doing right now. Telling him about her naughty fantasies had been a bit of a gamble, but it had certainly paid off, much better than she could have imagined. She didn't regret last night, not at all. Duncan was really, _really_ good with his tongue, and his hands had felt good on her body, too, not to mention his cock inside her…

She was still the tiniest bit sore, but at the same time, a pleasant tingle was already building between her legs again, just from thinking of him. Biting her lip, Megan reached down to touch herself lightly, while her imagination conjured up even more remembered sensations: Duncan's fingers thrusting inside her, his hot mouth on her breasts, his teeth clamping down on her nipple. She came quickly, with a small gasp of pleasure, and it felt good to relax, good to let go.

With a yawn, she got to her feet and ambled over to her desk to check her e-mail. Despite the late hour Megan had taken the time to write a brief message to Zevran last night, before she went to bed. Not to ask his permission or his forgiveness – there was no need for that – but to ask for his advice about the whole thing. He was far more experienced than her where sexual adventures where concerned, and she valued his point of view. Besides, talking to Léonie about him last night had made her realize how much she missed him.

He'd already sent a reply, thankfully. Megan smiled. _Just like Zev_. He seemed to have a sixth sense for knowing when she needed him. The e-mail took a while to load, because of the pictures he'd attached. Zevran had recently taken up modelling to make some extra money, and his most important photo shoot so far had been for a jeans ad campaign by a famous Antivan designer. Megan had begged him to send a few pics, and of course he'd obliged.

She couldn't resist glancing at the pictures first, before reading his message. They were done in black and white and professionally arranged and lit, and as she'd expected, they were utterly stunning. The jeans looked seriously hot on Zevran, clinging tight to his thighs and ass. In most of the pictures he was shirtless, no doubt to display his gorgeous tattoos to best advantage. The only exception was one photo, in which he was wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs and an unbuttoned denim shirt. And that, too, was hot, even though it should have looked ridiculous.

Of course Zevran had that talent, she mused as she quickly clicked through the whole portfolio, to turn something cheesy and clichéd into pure seduction. And it wasn't just his looks, though his body was amazing, lithe and toned, and his skin was just as smooth and perfect as she remembered it. No, Zevran's charm was at least as much due to his attitude, so casually sensual, so relaxed and confident of his own appeal. In several of the photos a girl was with him, a curvy brunette who had wrapped herself around his body in various interesting contortions, and the way he was looking at her from under his long, silky lashes made Megan's throat go dry. Nothing about the pictures was vulgar or explicit, but they were insanely sexy.

_Great. Now I'm horny again._ Megan rolled her eyes. Shaking her head impatiently, she firmly told herself to get her act together. She could hardly spend the whole day getting herself off, and besides, she really was curious about Zev’s reply.

_Carissima_ , the message read. _It is good to hear from you. And even better to be treated to such a delectable tale. It made getting up this morning far less of a chore. That Duncan guy sounds quite intriguing, but I think it would be good if you do not to get too attached to him, no? Far better to keep things fun and light-hearted. Keep him on his toes a little, surprise him, make him hungry for more. And most importantly, enjoy your time with him to the fullest, but don't expect more than he is ready to give._

Megan smiled to herself. She could practically hear the words in his voice, with his smooth, rolling accent, and her memory even supplied the accompanying look on his face, teasing and provocative, but also a little concerned. Zev didn't want her to get hurt, that much was obvious. He needn't have worried, though. Duncan was hot and exciting, but she was in no danger of having her heart broken. Quickly, she scanned the rest of the message.

_I miss you, Megan. Life is far too predictable without you around. Let me know how you liked the pictures, and keep me posted on that scandalous little_ storia _of yours. Knowing you, I am sure it will be all kinds of exciting. Love, Zevran._

Still smiling fondly, Megan let the laptop’s lid snap shut and leaned back in her chair. Zevran was right. The immediate future looked really exciting. And she was _so_ looking forward to it.

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Of all the Orlesian customs and traditions Megan had experienced since coming to Montsimmard, Empress's Day was the one she loved best. And really, what was not to like about the holiday? A whole day where everyone would dress up and celebrate, dancing and drinking in the streets, a day off from all responsibilities and duties. As far as Megan was concerned, it was a highlight of the year.

Léonie had explained that the actual occasion for celebrating was an obscure event in Orlesian history, when some visiting dignitary had saved Empress Celene from being assassinated. At a ball, Megan seemed to recall, and hadn't the assassin been Celene's sister, or her cousin? She was a bit hazy on the details, but that didn't stop her from enjoying the day to the full.

It was late evening by the time she knocked on the door to Duncan's office. She'd saved seeing him until then, spending the daylight hours partying with her fellow students on the campus. When he opened the door and saw her, his eyes widened and he quickly dragged her inside.

"Megan! What are you doing here?" He sounded vaguely irritated, and when she glanced past him, she noticed a large stack of essays on his desk. Had he really spent the whole day working?

Megan clucked her tongue in disbelief. "I came to see you, of course. And I have a lovely surprise for you, too."

Duncan just stared at her for a moment, as if he had trouble making sense of her words. "You have what?" He shook his head in irritation. "Maker, Megan, what _are_ you wearing?"

"You like?" She twirled in place, so he could admire her dress from all sides. "I found it in a thrift store. It's supposed to be an homage to Celene's iconic blue dress. You know, the one from the Halamshiral portrait."

"I noticed the resemblance, yes." Duncan's tone was dry. "Only somehow I think the Empress's dress wasn't quite so short."

"Bah, how would you know?" Megan grinned happily at him. "The portrait only shows her upper body, after all."

Megan had to bite back a grin at his expression. She loved everything about the dress: the high, lacy collar; the tight bodice that made her small breasts jut out; the short, puffy skirt that showed off her legs. She knew she looked cute and hot. After all, she'd spent most of the day fending off fellow students of both sexes who'd wanted a closer look.

Smiling brightly at Duncan, she sashayed past him and settled on top of his desk, legs crossed demurely. If he knew… The thought sent a hot spike of lust to her core. To cover it up, she took a deep swig from her bottle of beer. It was spiked with brandy, and went straight to her head, just the way she liked it.

But Duncan still seemed grumpy. With a deep sigh, he dropped back into his chair and reached for the essay he'd been marking. "At least let me finish this first."

"Yeah, sure. I promise I'll be good." She put the bottle away and fluttered her eyelids at him, folding her hands in her lap.

His beard twitched briefly, but then he went back to his task, frowning at the page occasionally. The room was quiet except for the scratching of his pen on the paper, and Megan took advantage of the lull by mentally preparing herself for her next move.

Finally, he set aside the paper and leaned back in his chair, looking up at her with a mixture of exasperation and amusement. "So… You said you had a surprise for me. Or is it just you showing up here with booze to get me to join the party?"

"Nope." She shook her head, pushing out her chest a little more. Predictably, his gaze fell to her breasts, quivering above the tight line of the corset, but he didn't linger.

"Well?" He raised an eyebrow.

"My surprise…" She caught and held his gaze, leaning back. "My surprise is something completely different." Slowly, deliberately she uncrossed her legs and let them fall apart a little, allowing him a glimpse of what was under the short skirt: her red-golden curls, glistening with arousal and laid enticingly bare.

The pen he'd still been holding clattered to the floor. "What the- Sweet Andraste, _Megan_!"

Before she knew it, his hands were on her legs, holding them apart so he could look his fill, but he was still only _looking_ , and that wouldn't do.

"Maker," he groaned. "Please don't tell me you've been out and about all day like this."

"Well, no," she admitted, relishing the tight grip of his hands on her thighs. "I took my panties off just before I came here."

"You did? Why?" Duncan had gotten to his feet now, and he was looming over her, tall and imposing, and it was so insanely hot. "Why did you take them off?" he repeated, his voice hoarse and low.

"I thought it might come in handy if we got to work on that fantasy of yours, where you bend me over the desk? And besides…" He groaned, closing his eyes, and Megan paused a little, to make sure she had his full attention. "I've been thinking of you for hours, dreaming of what you'd do to me tonight, and my panties… They were _soaked_."

"You-" Duncan was clearly past words.

Before she knew it, he'd already dragged her off the desk and turned her around, bending her over the heavy mahogany desk and pushing up her skirt to expose her bare behind. Megan heard another loud groan, then the rustle of a condom wrapper, followed by his soft intake of breath, and then he was behind her, his thick cock nudging against her. Eagerly, she spread her legs further to help him.

But the angle was awkward, probably because her legs were too long or the desk too low, or whatever, and he withdrew with a muttered curse. "On your back. Yes, like that."

She complied, stretching out flat on her back among the papers and stationery, and he was on her again immediately, his face grimly focused as he arranged her just the way he wanted her, with one leg around his waist and the other one high up on his shoulder. And then he aligned himself, and Megan nearly fainted at his first, deep thrust. It was so incredibly intense like this, so _tight_ , almost painfully so, and there was no way she could stop herself from crying out.

His deep groan echoed her cry, as he pulled back and thrust again, even deeper this time, cradling her ankle tight to his shoulder. He hadn't actually taken off any of his clothes, just opened his fly and pushed his pants a little down, and he looked hot in his shirtsleeves, the cotton straining over his biceps. Megan glanced down to where their bodies were joined, and the sight turned her on even further: his dark cock moving in and out of her with increasing speed and force; the whole scene framed by the dark blue satin of her bunched-up skirt.

His hands found her breasts, pushing them up roughly over her corset so he could get at her stiff nipples and pinch them, tug at them, and Maker she would have given anything to have his mouth on them now! But even so she was racing headlong toward her climax, her whole body tensing up in expectation of the moment, and she was holding her breath already, because she was close, really close, and-

"Shhh." He slowed down a little, running his hand soothingly over her flanks. "Relax. Breathe."

Megan responded with an angry hiss, because how in Thedas was she supposed to _relax_ , with his cock deep inside her, sliding mercilessly over her most sensitive places, over and over again. But Duncan waited patiently until she'd forced herself to take a deep breath, and then another, feeling a little of the tension drain away. Duncan smiled in silent approval, and when he moved again, it was… Megan gave up on finding words for this kind of intensity.

Her whole body was alive with pleasure, with sheer, unadulterated lust, washing all over her in endless waves, as if it would never end. Dimly she was aware that she was crying, begging, screaming in his arms, that at some point he went taut and came as well, pulsing deep inside her. But none of it mattered, compared to the sweet, sweet sensation racing through her veins, burning, blazing a hot trail all through her body. _So fucking perfect_.

When Duncan finally pulled back, things got a little awkward, with both of them struggling to untangle without messing up his papers even further. She found her panties, deep down in her bag and pulled them back on, and Duncan quickly tucked himself away again. Some part of Megan would have loved to stay a little longer, to be held and cuddled after that incredible high, but one glance at his face told her that it would be better to leave.

He kissed her goodbye, but when they parted, there was a frown on his forehead. "Listen, Megan… That was really, really hot, but we can't do it again. Not in my office, I mean. It's too risky. Somebody could hear us, or walk in on us or-"

"At this time of the day?" She raised a sceptical eyebrow. "I highly doubt it. But don't worry." Getting on her toes to plant another quick kiss on his cheek, she gave him another cheeky grin. "I don't mind coming to your house, you know. I'm sure there are plenty of firm surfaces there for us to explore."

"You are impossible." He did his best to sound stern, but he was smiling again, as she left.

When she crossed the parking lot, she frowned a little as she noticed a light in one of the offices. It wasn't Duncan's, since his windows faced the front of the building, so someone else had to be up working late. Try as she might, she couldn't recall who had the office facing Duncan's on the other side of the corridor. Briefly, she wondered whether they had heard them, or noticed her leaving his office at such a late hour. But she shook off the thought easily enough. After all, she had far more agreeable things to think about.

* * *

"So… Do you have any plans for tonight?" Daylen smiled shyly at her, and Megan couldn't help smiling back.

He was really quite cute, tall and dark and lanky, with lovely brown eyes that reminded her strongly of Carver. And he was fun to talk to, too. She'd spent the past hour chatting to him in the campus cafeteria, and time had flown by incredibly quickly. Daylen was majoring in modern languages, just like her, and they were doing a class paper on Orlesian literature together. Much to her surprise, he'd actually shown up in the library this morning to help her look for references. Most other guys would have happily left her to do all the grunt work.

Yes, he really was sweet, and for a moment she toyed with the idea of going out with him – until she remembered that she would be seeing Duncan tonight. "I'm sorry, Daylen. I really need to study for my exams next week."

It was a lame excuse, and anybody else would have called her out on it, but Daylen just gave her a sad little nod and started gathering his things.

"Hey, buddy. You coming? Class starts in ten minutes." That was one of his friends, the pale, red-haired one. "Come on. I don't want to be late again."

"Just a moment, Alim. Say, Meg, would you…" Daylen hesitated briefly, as if he was gathering his courage to ask her about something, but then he changed his mind. "Ah, well. See you tomorrow then. I'll mail you a copy of our outline, right?"

"Yeah. Thanks." Megan favoured him with another bright smile, then dug around in her bag for her phone to check her messages.

Léonie had sent her a text to let her know that she had already left for the weekend, and that it was Megan's turn to take out the garbage. Megan made a face. No other messages, but just as she was about to stow away her phone again, another one popped up with a buzzing noise.

It was from Duncan and when she saw it, a very unladylike curse passed her lips. Just five words. _Can't make it tonight. Sorry_. He hadn't given a reason, but she could easily guess at it by now. Work. It was always work with him. _Yeah well. That's what you get for sleeping with a guy old enough to be your father,_ a small logical voice pointed out in her head.

Megan snorted, tossing the phone angrily into her bag. It wasn't the first time he'd cancelled at the last minute, not by any means, and she was getting more and more fed up. She didn't look forward to another boring, lonely evening in her room. Come to think of it, Duncan had never actually asked her not to date anyone else… Maybe she should-

Just then, her phone buzzed again. Another message from Duncan. _I'll make it up to you. I promise_. He'd added a tiny emoji with a charmingly rueful expression that made her smile against her will. Make it up to her… he probably would, at that. She'd spent a fair amount of nights at his house in the past few weeks, and she'd never left unsatisfied. The sex had only become more amazing, the longer she'd known him, and the better he'd learned to play her body. No, she had no complaints whatsoever about his performance in bed.

But, it bothered her that he always kept things strictly professional and business-like if they ran into each other during the day. There was no real reason why they had to hide their relationship. She wasn't in any of his classes, and though Duncan was quite a bit older than her, she was of age. It didn't make sense. She'd even confronted him about it, early on, but he'd been adamant. _No, Megan. No one can know that I'm sleeping with a student. I'd never hear the end of it, if my colleagues got wind of it._ Megan grimaced at the memory. She'd never been happy with this kind of double play. To her, the whole thing was an uncomfortable reminder of the time when she'd had to hide her feelings for Nate, back at school.

Still, Duncan had made his opinion on the matter clear, and there was nothing to be done, not if she wanted to keep seeing him. And she did, very much so, though Zev's advice was never far from her mind. _Don't get too attached to him._ She sighed deeply as she headed for the cafeteria doors. It seemed relationships just didn't come easy to her. _Why does everything have to be so fucking complicated all the time?_

 


	4. Chapter 4

It was late at night, but Megan lingered in Duncan's luxurious walk-in shower, playing around with the various settings and trying out three different scented soaps. He'd picked her up after her classes, and they'd had dinner together at his place, then made love for hours, until it was time for her to leave. Only she didn't really want to, not yet.

Megan might not be in love with Duncan, but she was completely and utterly smitten with his house. Situated on one of the hills overlooking Montsimmard, with a view of Lake Celestine in the distance across the rooftops of the city; it was modern in style, with big panoramic windows and lots of pale wood and steel. The rooms were large and tastefully furnished, with lots of little echoes of Duncan's Rivaini heritage: mosaic tiles in warm, earthy tones in the bathrooms; low side tables and armoires made from dark, carved wood in the spacious living room; luscious patterned carpets everywhere.

Of course, there was no way he'd have been able to afford all of it on his professor's salary alone, but Megan knew he made a fair bit of money on the side with speaking engagements and his various publications. Either way, she was only too happy to take advantage of all that luxury now and then. Her own family was quite well-off, and sometimes she missed the comforts of home in her shabby dorm room.

"Megan?" Duncan was standing in the doorway, fully dressed, and he was smiling at the look of bliss on her face as she basked in the warm spray of water caressing her bare shoulders. "Come on. I need to take you home so I can get some sleep."

"All right." With a sigh of regret, she stepped out, quickly dried herself off and threw on her short dress.

On the way to the car, a thought struck her. "Say, Duncan…" It was something that she'd wondered about for a while. "Why do you live in this big house all by yourself? I mean, it's awesome and all that, but you don't really need the room, do you?"

"No, I guess I don't." He didn't say more at first, but when they were heading down the hill, he spoke again, quiet and hesitant. "My parents didn't have a whole lot of money. I grew up in a tiny, poky apartment, with just one bathroom and even so, we could barely afford the rent. My parents were unhappy, quarrelled a lot about money, and I hated it all. So I swore to myself that I'd have this big house one day. Dreaming of it, planning every detail… It helped me through some rough spots." He cleared his throat. "It sounds silly, I know."

Megan shook her head, then remembered he couldn't see her in the dim light. "No. Not at all. It's a wonderful house." It was no effort at all to sound sincere. "And I'm glad you could make your dream come true."

"Yeah, well. It's just sentimentality, I guess." Duncan shook himself, as if to get rid of the embarrassing memories.

He'd never told her so much about himself, and Megan wondered whether he regretted it already. She rather hoped not, and she definitely didn't think any less of him now. If anything, that little glimpse of his younger self made him even more appealing.

They didn't speak for the rest of the drive. Megan was deep in thought and Duncan seemed content to leave her alone.

* * *

"All right. I guess we ought to get some sleep before our presentation." Daylen closed the file they'd been working on for the past few hours, rubbing his eyes wearily. "Maker, I was beginning to think we'd be at it all night."

"No way." Léonie glared at him from her bed, but it was obvious her heart wasn't in it. "I would have kicked you out at midnight, at the very latest. I need my beauty sleep, you know."

"Hey, I knew we were nearly done." With a relaxed shrug, Megan turned off her laptop and got to her feet. "See you in class tomorrow, Daylen. And thanks for coming along."

He smiled, but didn't reply as he gathered his things. They had met at the library earlier on, but had been forced to relocate to Megan's room at closing time. Megan wasn't really fond of this kind of last-ditch effort, but the presentation counted toward her final grade, and she couldn't afford to fail it. And since Daylen had turned out to be a bit of a perfectionist, she hadn't been able to just wing it, as she would have done if she'd been on her own.

"Night, Megan." He left with a quick, surreptitious glance at her.

As soon as the door fell shut behind him, Megan stretched and yawned, popping the button on her tight jeans open with a relieved groan. "Maker, that took forever. I'm _so_ ready to call it a night."

Léonie shook her head. "Poor guy. He's head over heels for you, and you don't even notice him."

"I do." Megan sighed, rubbing her belly absent-mindedly. "And I think he's cute. It's just… It would hardly be fair to string him along just for the fun of it, while I'm planning to have it off with someone else, would it?"

"Your mystery lover, you mean?" Léonie made a sniffing noise. "No offense, Megan, but that thing really doesn't seem to be going anywhere."

Megan shrugged. "It doesn't have to go anywhere. I like things fine the way they are."

"Yeah, well, suit yourself." Léonie made a face. "All I know is, if I had the choice between a cutie like Daylen who worships the ground I walk on and a guy who doesn't even want to admit we-" Megan made a small, warning noise, and Léonie fell silent immediately.

Still, much as it pained Megan to admit it, her roommate had a point. Daylen was a sweetheart, kind and considerate, and he was pretty much exactly her type, as far as looks went. Besides, with him, there'd be no secrecy, no sneaking out at night for illicit meetings. She could have a boyfriend, plain and simple, just like all the other girls, and the thought was tempting, in a way.

Honestly, what was it about Duncan that attracted her so much that she was willing to put up with all of his shit? Sure, he was good-looking, but so were plenty of others. Heck, even some of the other profs were pretty hot, and as for her fellow students… Megan knew that several of them would have been only too willing to mess around with her. So why did she prefer Duncan to someone her own age?

Stretching out on her narrow bed, Megan stared at the ceiling, trying to sort out her thoughts. Part of it was that she had always been curious and eager to learn, and sex was no exception. There was plenty that Duncan could teach her, and she intended to take full advantage of it. Besides, he knew what he wanted and didn't hesitate to take it, and he didn't mind when things got a little rough. There was no shy fumbling with him, no pleading eyes, but no quarter given either. With Duncan, she always had to be on top of her game to stay in charge, and she genuinely enjoyed their little power games.

And yet… There were days when she grew tired of it all. Just occasionally, it would be nice to be with someone who didn't challenge her constantly, someone in whose presence she could fully relax... Or maybe not. With a sigh, Megan turned to face the wall. If it ever happened, she'd probably be bored to death.

* * *

Duncan had grumbled a lot. Megan knew that he was not happy about letting her stay all night. But at the same time, there was no way he would risk ruining his fancy car by driving through a hail storm. And calling a taxi for her would have been tacky, as well as inconsiderate. So in the end, she had the vagaries of the weather to thank for a whole night spent in his big, comfy bed.

He wasn't there when she woke up, so she went looking for him, after a quick trip to the bathroom. Her clothes from last night didn't look particularly inviting, so she grabbed his shirt instead and pulled it over her head without bothering to unbutton it. It went all the way down to her thighs, so she was at least moderately decent.

She found Duncan in the kitchen, where he was busy making breakfast. He was wearing only pyjama pants, and Megan paused for a moment in the doorway to enjoy the view. He really was in damn good shape for a man his age. Though, come to think of it, she had no idea how old he was. 50-ish, if she hazarded a guess, but she was by no means sure.

"Megan." He spared a quick glance at her before returning his attention to the pan on the stove. "Pancakes okay with you?"

"Absolutely. I love pancakes." It was a nice surprise, actually. She hadn't expected that level of domesticity from him.

Walking up behind him, she moulded herself against his bare back for a moment, enjoying his warmth.

"Just a moment." Carefully, he let the last pancake slide on top of the stack he'd already prepared, then turned around to place a quick kiss on her lips. "You can help me set the table."

They worked quickly together, getting plates and cutlery from the beautiful kitchen range. When they were done, Megan surveyed it all with a pleased sigh, then made herself comfortable in Duncan's lap.

"This is nice." Yawning, she rubbed her head against his shoulder. "Feels almost like an old married couple."

"Megan." He grew tense immediately. "Look, I… I'm very fond of you, but you do realize-"

"Of course I do. I'm not stupid." It was said lightly, but she still felt a pang at his words. It was one thing to know rationally that their little fling couldn't last, but why couldn't they even pretend for a moment? "I was just joking."

He was still frowning, and she jumped to her feet again, casting about for a way to distract him. "Say… do you have any syrup for the pancakes? Because I have so many fun ideas involving syrup…"

Duncan laughed softly, apparently relieved about the change of subject. "There's some maple syrup over there, on the top shelf."

Megan set off enthusiastically in the direction he'd indicated, but found to her annoyance that she couldn't reach the top shelf, no matter how far she stretched herself. She was about to give up when she heard a brief chuckle right behind her, and he was there, reaching past her to get the bottle.

"Here you go." He handed it to her, taking advantage of their positions to embrace her tightly and run his hands all the way down her body, caressing her through the thin linen of the shirt. "Mmhmm, you feel good."

Megan felt a familiar tingle inside her belly, but a girl had to have priorities. "Breakfast first." She leaned back against him for a moment, though, because it was nice to be in his arms, safe and familiar.

Together, they made short work of the pancakes. Duncan left the last one to Megan, smiling indulgently as she drenched it in syrup and polished it off. She helped him put everything into the dishwasher afterwards, but when he reached for the syrup bottle, she stopped him with a wicked smile.

"Leave it. I told you I have plans." She tilted her head invitingly in the direction of the kitchen table. "Aren't you curious?"

"So you were serious about that?" He sighed. "Of course you were. You do realize that this is going to be one hell of a mess?"

"Yeah. So?" Quickly, she arranged herself on the table and pulled the shirt over her head, then reached for the bottle.

"Wait a moment." Duncan raised his hand to stop her. "If you love syrup so much, shouldn't I be the one who gets covered in it?"

"Good point. Well, then. Come here." She patted the table's surface invitingly.

Fortunately, the table was big and solid, like most of his furniture, and it didn't even creak when he joined her, having discarded his pyjama pants. "Really, Megan," he made one last, half-hearted attempt to change her mind. "We'll be sticky all over."

"Yup. Can't wait." With a wide grin, she took hold of the bottle and poured a generous amount of syrup on his bare stomach.

Duncan groaned in despair when the amber liquid started to pool in his navel, but when Megan bent over him and started to lap it off him, he quickly found another reason to moan. Her hands weren't idle either, spreading some on his dark, flat nipples before she proceeded to suckle gently, making him arch up below her.

"Sure you don't want to try some?" Catching his gaze, she carefully dabbed some syrup on her own breasts.

Again, he moaned, pulling her up to straddle him and sucking her nipples hungrily between his lips, first one, then the other. It felt a bit weird, actually, because the syrup got smeared all over her thighs and stomach. Their skin was starting to stick together in places, and it was not an altogether agreeable sensation.

And yet… Duncan's mouth felt so good on her, and he was fully hard against her stomach, though she hadn't even tried anything with his cock yet. Which was a sad oversight, now that she came to think of it.

"Wait." She sat up, and Duncan flinched in pain, when her skin got stuck to his chest hair.

It took a moment to free herself, but the momentary discomfort was quickly forgotten when she reached for his cock, coating it thoroughly in syrup before she got to work with her tongue. Both his hands found their way into her hair, holding her in place as she licked and sucked greedily, and his moans turned frantic at record speed.

And Megan loved it all, chasing down every last bit of syrup, down between his legs, into every tiny fold and crevice. _Maker, this is fun_. It wasn't that she didn't like his natural taste, but the sweetness of the syrup added an extra layer of enjoyment to an activity she'd always relished. Already, he was getting close, practically unable to stop himself from thrusting up below her, begging her not to stop, in a needy tone she'd never heard from him before.

Of course, she had no intention of stopping anyway. She kept going until he came with a long, shuddering sigh, pouring himself down her throat, until he began to twitch in her mouth, oversensitive after that wild rush of pleasure. And even then she didn't really want to let go of him. Placing a last, soft kiss on the tip of his cock, she reluctantly withdrew, grinning triumphantly at the sight of him, wrecked and shivering, unable to move or speak.

When he had finally recovered enough to try to sit up, Duncan made a face. "Ugh. I would love to pay you back in kind, but really, this is-"

"Well, why don't we take this to the shower instead?" she purred. "Two birds with one stone, so to speak. We clean up and you take care of me."

"Excellent idea." He got off the table with another wince and gathered her up in his arms, heading straight for the bathroom.

Megan leaned against his shoulder, fighting the urge to giggle with sheer joy. It was wonderful to be held like this, to feel his strength and to know she could rely on him not to drop her. And when he put her down in the shower and turned on the warm spray, she happily surrendered herself to his skilled caresses.

He made her come with his hands and mouth, with the water pouring all over both of them, glistening in his lashes as he looked up to watch her face in the throes of her orgasm. And afterwards he soaped them both up from head to toe until the last vestiges of the syrup were gone and they could dry off and head for the bed for some much needed rest.

Duncan would want her to leave after their nap, of course, and she knew better than to overstay her welcome. But for now, he was holding her, tight and warm, and his lips were brushing against her forehead as she dozed off, feeling happy and sated.

No, they didn't have a future together, but they could still enjoy the present. And right now, Megan was enjoying it very much indeed.


	5. Chapter 5

"I said no, Megan. I've got a publisher's deadline later this week and an important speaking engagement on Thursday. I adore you, but right now I can't afford to waste my time." Unceremoniously, Duncan pushed her out through his office door. "Call me next week, if you must. And now be a good girl and go home to sleep."

The door felt shut and Megan stared at it incredulously. _Really_? So she was a waste of time now? And had he really just sent her off to bed like a baby? Who did he think he was? For a moment, she felt so hurt and disappointed that she had to swallow a sob, but then annoyance won over. She raised her fist to knock on the door, but she was interrupted by a slurred voice from the other side of the hallway. 

"Don't bother. His career comes first. Always has, always will." Dr Ward - _Riordan_ , as Duncan had called him - was leaning against the frame of his open office door, a half-empty tumbler of what looked to be brandy in his hand. His dark pants were riding low on his slim hips and he had rolled up his shirtsleeves and unbuttoned his collar. He looked unshaven and exhausted, with deep shadows under his expressive grey eyes, and his black hair was a mess. In short, he looked like bad news. _And sexy as hell to boot._ Megan swallowed, lost for an answer.

He went on talking anyway, gesturing vaguely in her direction with his glass. "You look pissed. Want a drink, sweetheart?"

Megan hesitated. This was probably a bad idea, but his offer sounded really tempting. Duncan's rejection had been the last straw, after a long week spent wrangling over student loans and cursing the library's filing system. 

"Is that Antivan brandy?" Hopefully she glanced at his glass. 

Zevran had made her try some on his last visit, and much to her surprise she'd loved the rich, mellow flavour. It wasn't really a taste she could afford on her meager budget, though.

Riordan bared his teeth in a feral smile. "25 years old. I figured I might as well get sloshed on the good stuff."

"All right." Grabbing her bag, she followed him into his office.

It looked nothing like Duncan's. No piles of manuscripts, no comfy leather chair, no state-of-the-art computer system on the desk. Riordan's room was sparsely furnished, just a desk, a plain wooden chair, a mangy couch in the corner and some bookshelves. The furniture looked old and scuffed, and the only sign that he ever did any work here was the stack of essays on the desk.

"Here you go." He handed her a glass and motioned for her to sit in the chair.

He himself remained standing, slumped against the desk. Up close, he looked even more wrecked, his eyes bloodshot and his mouth weary. At the same time, he smelled good, of some spicy, musky aftershave, and when he leaned toward her, she caught a glimpse of dark curls on his chest. Unconsciously, Megan licked her lips.

"Well?" He tilted his head questioningly toward her glass.

Raising it to her lips, Megan took a good mouthful, just as Zev had taught her, and when the brandy's aroma hit her taste buds, she closed her eyes and moaned in undisguised ecstasy. "Maker, you weren't kidding. This  _is_ good stuff."

"Told you so." She opened her eyes to see him shrug, pretending to be unconcerned. But his eyes were firmly fixed on her mouth, and they had grown pitch-dark. 

They were both quiet, while she finished her glass. Meagan declined his silent offer of a refill, and was just debating whether she ought to get up and leave when Riordan spoke again. 

"So... Did our dear Duncan break your heart? He does that to people, you know." There was just enough raw pain in his voice to assure her that he was speaking from personal experience. _Interesting_.

"Nah." Megan shook her head. "I'm just mad at him. I've had a bad week, and I was bored and horny and I had hoped..." She bit her lip.

"You had hoped he would help you out." There was a faint trace of amusement in his expression now, underneath the tiredness. "Well, tough on you."

"Exactly." Megan got to her feet with a weary sigh. "Look, I should-"

She didn't even see him move, but suddenly he was right in front of her, standing up straight now, looking lean and taut and utterly delectable. "Duncan is an idiot. Doesn't know what he's missing." He raised his hand, giving her ample time to step back before he traced a slow line along her jaw.

"I think we can agree on that." Megan shivered under his touch. 

"And what are you going to do about it?" His hand wandered lower, down along the curve of her throat, as if magically drawn toward her breasts.

"About Duncan being an idiot?" Pretending to misunderstand him, she gave him her most innocent look. "Nothing to be done about that, I'm afraid."

The corners of his mouth twitched. "True. No, I meant..." His fingers trailed along the neckline of her white blouse now, caressing her collarbone. "What are you going to do about being bored and horny?"

"I don't know. Maybe…" Megan realized her nipples were tingling with want, chafing against the fabric of her bra, and she decided to throw all scruples to the wind. After all, she'd had her fair share of naughty dreams involving the man before her, and if he was offering... “Maybe I ought to explore other options.”

Holding his gaze, she slowly began to unbutton her blouse. Riordan's breathing sped up, but he made no move to help her as she shrugged it off her shoulders. But when she turned around, his hand found its way to her bra clasp without further prompting, and then he was pulling her close to his hard body, cupping both breasts with his hands and moaning deeply as he bit down on her shoulder.

"You really want to do this?" His voice was rough and hoarse in her ear. "I'm in a bit of a mood tonight." As if to underline his words, he pinched her nipples hard and Megan whined with pain and pleasure.

"I noticed." Maker, she was soaked already, unbelievably riled up by the way he was manhandling her. "Go on. I'm good."

Another rough groan, and he was spinning her around in his arms, and then his mouth was on hers, brutal and demanding. Megan's heart was beating wildly against her ribcage, and some part of her wanted to run from him, because he was too angry, too aggressive. But she quickly silenced that part. She was too curious how this would play out, too eager for more. His left hand was yanking up her skirt, his fingers dipping into her panties to caress her intimately, and yes, he knew what he was doing. Grinding into his touch, Megan moaned shamelessly.

"Maker, you're so hot." There was a stutter in his voice. "All right then."

Roughly, he shoved her toward the couch, sending her sprawling on the cushions, laid out for his pleasure. Megan spared a brief thought on what she must look like, half naked and dishevelled, her legs spread obscenely wide, but she didn't have it in her to care. Every nerve in her body was buzzing with excitement as she watched him slither out of his shirt and pants. His cock was straining against his briefs, the tip just about visible over the waistband, and before he could push them down, she motioned for him to come closer. 

"Let me." Sitting up, she ran a teasing finger down his stomach, and he groaned, watching her avidly as she slowly stroked him through the fabric, then began to peel it away, inch by inch. 

When he was bare, Megan took a moment to lean back and admire him. She liked cocks. It was as simple as that. She loved to look at them, to touch them, to play with them. His was long and curved, pale as the rest of him and beautifully responsive, twitching when she ran her tongue all the way up from the base to the tip. 

She had meant to take her time, teasing and tormenting him, but Riordan had other ideas. His right hand cupped her head, while the thumb of his left pressed at the corner of her mouth, forcing her to open up for him. Megan gave in with a whimper, gasping for air when he thrust into her mouth. Instinctively, she tried to move her head away, but he had a firm grip on her, with several strands of her hair twisted around his fingers. Without missing a beat, he pulled back and then pushed in again, clearly unconcerned about her comfort.

And yes, it _was_ uncomfortable, and she couldn't really breathe, but at the same time, it was sort of hot. Still, she wasn't going to let him actually hurt her, and the next time he thrust, she put one hand firmly on his hipbone to stop him from going too deep. He snarled at this but didn't insist. Megan closed her eyes and focussed on the slide of his flesh over her lips, the small noises he made, the taste of the first pearls of fluid leaking from his cock.

Her jaw was beginning to ache, though, and she was grateful when he finally pulled back. "You look gorgeous." The tremor in his voice was pronounced now and his hand was shaking when he ran his thumb over her swollen lips. "Turn around."

With a shudder, Megan let him arrange her as he wanted her, kneeling on the seat, clinging to the back of the couch. He tore off her panties without the slightest compunction, and she tensed, as a thought struck her.

"Wait. Not without-" She twisted her neck to see what he was doing.

"Right. Give me a moment." He left her just like she was, exposed and shivering while he went looking for a condom, digging through the pockets of his coat. 

And once again, Megan wondered why she let him do this to her, why it turned her on so immensely.

"What a lovely view." He was back, slapping her ass lightly before he rolled on the condom, and she shivered all over, expecting him to push inside her straight away.

But he surprised her again by sliding a careful finger between her folds, gently probing inside her, brushing against her clit in passing, as if it was an afterthought. She gasped hard and he laughed softly, and then that finger was back, caressing her with light, teasing strokes until she couldn't bear it any longer. 

"Please." She was close already, so close, but she needed more, wanted more. 

"Please what?" A second finger joined the first, both sliding inside her, spreading her open. "I think I can guess, but it's so much more fun to hear you say it."

Megan rolled her eyes at this, but hey, if all it took to convince him was a little dirty talk, she was more than happy to oblige. "Fuck me," she purred, arching up her back. "Let me have your cock, please, you know I want it."

"Oh yes, you do." Without further warning, he pushed inside her, and Megan mewled with relief. 

Thankfully he was beyond teasing now, setting a hard and merciless pace. Megan had never felt dirtier than she did now, here on this shabby old couch, allowing herself to be taken by this man she barely knew, listening to the slapping noise of flesh on flesh, breathing in the smell of alcohol and sex. It was the opposite of romantic, but despite that - or maybe because of it - it excited her beyond measure.

Megan didn't waste a single thought on Duncan while Riordan fucked her, nor did she worry about the future or wreck her mind about some deeper meaning of the act. Her whole brain was focussed on _feeling_ , breathing, being, and nothing counted but the arousal building up inside her belly at breakneck speed. When she came, it was quick and hard and almost overwhelming in its intensity. Her orgasm tore through her like a whip, the pleasure so sharp it bordered on pain. Riordan groaned when she tightened around him and she felt him let go, pounding even harder into her until he, too, finished with a last, almost desperate thrust.

They didn't talk afterwards while they got dressed again, but Megan held her head up high. There was nothing to say, really, but nothing to be ashamed about either. They'd both gotten what they wanted out of this, and neither of them had expected more. Just sex, plain and simple, no romance, no hurt feelings. They both knew it had been a one-time thing. It wouldn't happen again. And oddly enough, that thought made her feel not sad, but free and light-hearted.

Riordan smiled at her when she said goodbye, a sardonic, world-weary smile, but a smile nevertheless. And she smiled back, getting up on her toes to breathe a quick kiss on his cheek. 

It was raining outside, pouring down in thick heavy sheets, and Megan took a moment to dig around in her bag for her umbrella. She was tired and a bit sore, but at the same time pleasantly blissed out, her whole body heavy with exhaustion. All she wanted now was a hot shower and a good night's sleep.

But just as she was about to head outside, the door to Duncan's office opened with a creaking noise. He was there, staring at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. Megan bit her lip. She knew what she looked like, her hair tousled, her clothes in disarray, her lips bruised from Riordan's brutal kisses. It was glaringly obvious what she'd been doing. Undaunted, she stared back at him, raising her chin defiantly. Duncan didn't say a word, just swallowed once and closed the door in her face.

With a sigh, Megan turned and went outside to brave the storm. Within minutes, her umbrella got torn up by the wind, so in the end, she just tossed it into a bin and allowed the rain to soak her through. It felt good, chasing away the numbness and making her skin buzz with life. Briefly, she wondered whether she should go back in the morning, talk to Duncan, explain, ask him to forgive her. But then she decided against it. That, too, was over and done with. _Time to move on._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Huggles and thanks to the most awesome beta ever, my lovely friend suilven.


End file.
